,

Your note came while I was out walking. Even if I had been at home I
could not have managed to dine together to-day, being under a beastly
engagement to dine out. Unless I hear from you to the contrary, I shall
expect you here some time to-morrow, and will remain at home. I only
wait your instructions to get the little canvases made. O, what a pity
it is not the outside of the light'us, with the sea a-rowling agin it!
Never mind, we'll get an effect out of the inside, and there's a storm
and a shipwreck "off;" and the great ambition of my life will be
achieved at last, in the wearing of a pair of very coarse petticoat
trousers. So hoorar for the salt sea, mate, and bouse up!

Ever affectionately,
DICKY.

[Sidenote: Mr. Mark Lemon.]

TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _May 23rd, 1855._

MY DEAR MARK,

Stanny says he is only sorry it is not the outside of the lighthouse
with a raging sea and a transparent light. He enters into the project
with the greatest delight, and I think we shall make a capital thing of
it.

It now occurs to me that we may as well do a farce too. I should like to
get in a little part for Katey, and also for Charley, if it were
practicable. What do you think of "Animal Mag."? You and I in our old
parts; Collins, Jeffrey; Charley, the Markis; Katey and Mary (or
Georgina), the two ladies? Can you think of anything merry that is
better? It ought to be broad, as a relief to the melodrama, unless we
could find something funny with a story in it too. I rather incline
myself to "Animal Mag." Will you come round and deliver your sentiments?

Ever affectionately.

[Sidenote: Mr. Frank Stone, A.R.A.]

TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Thursday, May 24th, 1855._

MY DEAR STONE,

Great projects are afoot here for a grown-up play in about three weeks'
time. Former schoolroom arrangements to be reversed--large stage and
small audience. Stanfield bent on desperate effects, and all day long
with his coat off, up to his eyes in distemper colours.

Will you appear in your celebrated character of Mr. Nightingale? I want
to wind up with that popular farce, we all playing our old parts.

Ever affectionately.

[Sidenote: Mr. Frank Stone, A.R.A.]